


The Christmoose Gift

by Dragonquillca



Category: Original Work
Genre: Other, Wildlife, hunting fiction, no animals were harmed in this story, outdoor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-05 16:50:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5382989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonquillca/pseuds/Dragonquillca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Christmas hunting trip takes an interesting turn. This doesn't end like you think, and I promise even the animal lovers among you will approve.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Christmoose Gift

**Author's Note:**

> *This is a work of fiction. While white moose do exist, this is only a work of imagination.*

By Carolyn McBride

 

I sat quietly watching and listening for any sign of my prey. I knew that this wasn’t the best time of year to be hunting, but my family needed meat. I couldn’t go home empty-handed. It was the day before Christmas and I wanted to be able to give my kids some kind of meat for Christmas dinner. My success depended not only on my hunting skill but also at eluding capture myself. In the eyes of the law, I was a poacher hunting out of season. So I was listening for the sound of wildlife as well as the conservation officers.

 

I breathed as slowly and quietly as I could, ever conscious of the direction of the breeze. I was sitting behind a screen of pine trees trying not to think of the chill in the winter air or the increasing dampness. I had settled to the side of a large, deep swamp, sure that sooner or later the moose that had left tracks earlier in the week would return. I had dressed warmly anticipating a lengthy wait. I knew there was a moose that lived around this swamp. I had found the thicket where it bedded down, I had followed it’s tracks and carefully avoided stepping in it’s scat. I was convinced I would be getting my meat today.

 

Finally, I heard the sound of branches snapping as something came closer. The nearer it drew, the clearer it became that this was something bigger than a dog. I was hoping for a deer. When the animal finally pushed through a stand of spruce, I had to blink a couple of times because I was sure I was looking at a white moose! I closed my eyes for a few seconds, thinking I was hallucinating. When I opened them again, it was indeed a white moose. I studied the animal carefully while I prayed the wind would continue to blow into my face. It was a female, a cow, no more than 900 pounds at my best estimate. She wasn’t thin, but fat moose only existed in my dreams. Either way, my kids needed meat.

 

As I slowly raised my gun, I felt a pang of regret at having to shoot such a beautiful animal.I briefly considered passing on the moose and hunting a deer instead, or possibly setting a snare for a rabbit. But even as I pondered my situation, I knew a moose would enable us to have meat far longer than a deer or rabbit would.

 

She stepped carefully along the edge of the swamp, her long legs far sturdier than they seemed. She sniffed the air cautiously and I didn’t dare move. Whenever she swung that big head away from me, I raised my gun a little more until I finally had the muzzle poking out between the branches of the pine I huddled behind. She had stepped out onto the ice with her nose pointing to the willows on the far side of the swamp. I knew my opportunity was at hand. It was now or never. I peered down the barrel of the gun, my finger slowly tightening on the trigger as I exhaled, and jumped as a loud snap ricocheted through the cold winter air.

 

I blew out a frustrated breath, shaking just a little from the adrenaline that surged through my body. A glance out to the frozen swamp revealed a half a moose. She had fallen through the ice, but only her hind-quarters. The snap I heard must have been the ice giving way under her weight. Her front legs and head were still above the ice, her nostrils flared with fright and her brown eyes were as wide as I’d ever seen on any animal. I sighed deeply, knowing that today I was not going home with moose meat.

Ignoring my stiff muscles, I stood up and slid my rifle back into it’s padded case, pushed out of my hiding place and walked back up the trail to where I had left my ATV. I made sure to attach the gun securely, started the vehicle up and drove back to the edge of the swamp. The moose was still half in and half out of the ice. I backed up so the rear of the bike was closer to the edge, killed the motor and pulled a few straps out from under the seat. I looped the straps loosely around my neck and stepped out onto the ice, praying it would hold me. It seemed to take forever to get close to the moose, and just when I thought I was going to make it, I heard the ice beneath my feet start to creak ominously. Just because it was a swamp and not a lake didn’t mean hypothermia wouldn’t kill us both. I lowered myself until I was laying belly down on the ice and pulled myself closer with my elbows.

 

I had no idea how I was going to get the straps around the moose. I tied a loop as best I could and hoped I could throw it successfully enough to get it around her neck, but it’s not like I roped a lot of animals. It took a few attempts, but eventually I got it around her neck and by dumb luck it slipped under one front leg. Good enough. I wiggled back towards my ATV and scrambled up the embankment.

I sat on the four-wheeler and gave it a little gas. I didn’t want to pull the moose apart, just help her to solid ice. She was pulled forward but her bulk only served as an icebreaker. Not what I wanted at all. I watched as she tried to pull herself up with her front legs, but they punched through the ice. I gave the quad a little more gas, slowly and I twisted back to see the moose rise slowly until she was mostly out of the icy water. Encouraged, I kept going. I slowly pulled the moose until she was completely out of the water and sliding across the ice toward me. I cut the engine and walked carefully out, talking to her in a low voice the whole time. I knew this ice would hold her, but I wanted to get those straps off before she hurt herself further. She must have been exhausted, because she lay on the ice and allowed me to retrieve them.

 

When I had the straps off her, I backed up until I was off the ice completely. I fumbled with my smart-phone and took a few pictures, just to prove I hadn’t hallucinated when I told my friends later. When she struggled to rise, I knew that I still had time to make a shot, and at this distance, there was no way I could miss. But at the same time, I knew I couldn’t take the life of this majestic animal. I had never seen a white moose before, and if the Universe saw fit to make an awe-inspiring creature such as this, who was I to kill it?

 

So I sat on the four-wheeler and watched as she slowly climbed off the ice and toward the brush to my left. When she reached the scrub and small trees, she snorted and two young, nearly identical copies of her came stepping tenderly out from between the trees. I snapped more pictures with my phone. To see one white moose was pretty incredible, but three? So I took all the pictures I could, and finally stopped when I saw my battery indicator getting low. She stomped one long front leg and a wild turkey flushed straight up not five feet away, I kid you not. It flew up into a thick branch and fell down dead just as suddenly. I looked back to the moose just in time to see her nudge her babies back into the trees. Before she disappeared herself, she stopped and looked back at me and I will swear to my dying day I saw gratitude in those brown eyes. I jerked my thumb in the direction of the turkey with the broken neck and murmured a quiet thanks.

She blew a big breath out her nose and stepped into the trees.

I looked at the turkey, and then back where I had seen her last. 

I had saved her life, and in return, she had given me a gift. 

Meat for our Christmas dinner the next day.

It was a Christmoose gift.

 

_** The End ** _

 

**Author's Note:**

> (This tale was written two years ago)  
> I'd love to know what you think! Please feel free to let me know.


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